


white wind

by rhymeswithpi



Series: limit break [14]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, M/M, Touch Aversion, vague comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 18:10:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10314053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithpi/pseuds/rhymeswithpi
Summary: And then Noct’s settling himself onto his bare chest, head tucked right under his chin, andwhy did he not wear a shirt to bed?





	

He wakes up as a weight settles next to him on the tiny mattress. They have beds to themselves for the first time in _ages_. Why is this happening? All he wanted was a decent night’s sleep, or at least as decent as a lumpy caravan bed could offer him.

Noct doesn’t get _too_ close, just close enough that he can feel the heat off his skin without actually being touched, but he’s oddly ok with it this time. It doesn’t bother him like it normally does, skin not crawling with the urge to get away. Odd. Then again, it’s _always_ been different with Noct.

He’s very careful as he turns himself over to look at Noct, trying not to touch him or crowd him off the edge of the bed. Noct’s staring blankly at the wall, eyes unfocused. Another nightmare, then. Slowly, he pushes himself upright, leaning against the flimsy headboard. He pats the pillow next to him, and Noct eventually gets the message, curling up on his side in the newly made space.

Something comforting. He’s sure he should be doing _something_ , but it’s been so long since Noct came to him that he’s forgotten how to _do_ that. What did he do when they were children, before it had been drilled into his head not to touch?

He awkwardly pats Noct’s hair, earning a snorting laugh. Not that, apparently.

He lets his hand settle on Noct’s head, instead. Was his hair always this soft? Maybe it was just the lack of product in it, but to be honest, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been allowed this opportunity.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Not really the best at this.”

Noct hums something in response, eyes closed, face inches away from his thigh. The lack of anxiety is more confusing than anything. Noct is _right there_ , closer than anyone’s been outside of a combat or first aid situation in what feels like _years_. What the hell, he thinks. Might as well enjoy it.

Which would be a lot easier if he knew what he was doing. It’s not as easy when Noct is _awake_ , not as simple as listening to his nonsense babbling and pretending he knows what’s going on, or trying to avoid a wayward limb to the face. His hand is still just sitting on Noct’s head, and isn’t he supposed to be doing something with it? What do _normal_ people do? Should he be doing anything? Is this _enough_? He almost wishes Prompto hadn’t opted to camp with Gladio. Almost. Prompto would at least know what to _do_ , but then Noct wouldn’t have come to him. Sure, he wouldn’t be _in_ this position, but it’s important to him on some level that Noct _did_ come to him. Even if he was the only option.

He can at least figure out that Noct doesn’t want to talk about it. Not that Noct _ever_ wants to talk about the nightmares, but at least he can handle not talking. It wouldn’t make sense to press for details, anyway. Not tonight. They’ve gone years without talking about them, and it’s not his place to make Noct talk about something he clearly wants to keep to himself.

Noct’s tugging him back down on the mattress, and it’s easier to just give in and lay down. Even if this _is_ closer than he’s used to being to anyone, closer than he’d _let_ himself be if they weren’t on this journey together.

“Is this okay?” Noct asks, looking up at him.

The question confuses him at first. Why wouldn’t it be? He realises belatedly just how tense he is, how loud and fast his heart is beating, how that must seem to Noct.

“It’s fine,” he says, and the _look_ he gets makes him feel a little sheepish. “Really. It’s _fine_.”

Noct doesn’t seem entirely convinced. He’s not very convinced, if he’s being honest. There’s a million reasons this is a bad idea, not the least of them being that Noct is engaged to _someone else_ and this is _wildly_ inappropriate for his station in life. But right now he’s _tired_ , and this is _nice_. Even if he is keenly aware he’s overthinking this whole thing, even if his mind is stalling out because someone is touching him and he’s _not trying to run_. His hand manages to find Noct’s shoulder, and he hopes the gesture is comforting. Is his hand shaking? He thinks his hand is shaking.

“Specs, stop _thinking_ ,” Noct says. “There’s time for that later.”

It’s chaste and fleeting, the press of Noct’s lips to his forehead, and _how_ had they not realised this ages ago? He’s never been so thankful that it’s _dark_ , blushing so hard he may just burst into flames. And then Noct’s settling himself onto his bare chest, head tucked right under his chin, and _why did he not wear a shirt to bed_?

“A-alright,” he finally agrees. “We can figure it out later.”

Noct’s asleep before much longer, breaths evening out, and even if he wanted to move him, he doesn’t know where he would start or how he’d do it without waking Noct up. He closes his eyes, determined not to let guilt and duty and whether or not this is _proper_ get in the way of just being able to be this close to someone.

\-----

He wakes to a weight settling on the mattress again, sunlight peeking through the flimsy curtains over the caravan’s window. Noct hands him a plate and a mug after he manages to sit up, settles in next to him against the wall.

The toast is practically charcoal and the coffee is so weak he’s pretty sure it can’t actually be _called_ coffee. Eventually they’ll have to leave the tiny bed and the caravan, face the scrutiny of their friends, and at some point they _will_ have to talk about what Altissia means for whatever this is, but right now he doesn’t mind. The way Noct is leaning against his shoulder makes it all worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series in the works, based around a very in-depth set of headcanons we use for our RP blogs. Because we're nerds.


End file.
